


The Clockwork Chronicles 2

by FrecklefaceB



Series: Boomerlyn Series [9]
Category: Suicide Squad (2016), Suicide Squad (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Family Issues, Fluff, Humor, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6349438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrecklefaceB/pseuds/FrecklefaceB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second part of the third installment to Hey, Bartender and Daddy B series. Owen is nine and starting to get a little mischievous. In Boomerang's absence, Kaitlyn is left to keep Owen under control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Clockwork Chronicles 2

**Author's Note:**

> Captain Boomerang isn't mine but Kaitlyn and their story is. This version of Boomerang is based off of Jai Courtney's Captain Boomerang in the upcoming Suicide Squad movie, so please keep that delicious visual in mind.
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr under the username of FrecklefaceB. I post updates and general Jai Courtney related randomness. I'd love to hear from you.

"Go ahead...just run away, after all, it's what you do best!" You spit in a condescending tone as you follow Boomer from room to room while he grabs his belongings.

"Ya really startin' to piss me off." Shoving the collected items into his duffle bag.

"I'm sure that whore of a barmaid will make you feel better." 

With a smirk, "They are the best at it. You'd know." 

"Fuck you!" You scream as you toss the lamp at his head. 

Boomerang ducks as it shatters against the wall. He glares daggers at you before stealthily walking over grabbing your arms with a shake. 

Releasing you and pointing a finger, "I've had about enough of your nonsense, Kaitlyn. Cut it out." 

"Or what?" You challenge. 

He exhales through his nose and spins, grabbing his bag on the way out the bedroom, "Ya used to be fun, what happened?" 

"It's called responsibility, George. It's something us grown-ups do. I had to accept it once I got pregnant. You should really try it." 

Stopping to argue, "I'm sure it's much easier when ya know you're gonna be a parent. If only all of us were afforded the same fuckin' luxury." The malice in his voice was clear. You fight back the bile in your throat. 

He knew exactly how to cut you and Owen was the machete. 

Uttering under his breath, Boomerang steps outside and lights up a cigarette. 

You pause in the doorway, upset for losing your temper and more so that Owen was home to witness it. 

With his back to you, he pushed off the ground with is foot, causing the tire swing to gently sway. George stops besides him, smoke billowing through his nostrils.

"Are you leaving again?"

"Ya, it's time for me to head back." Owen's head drops at his father's words. "Ya be good for ya mother, ya hear me?" 

Owen's gaze doesn't move, "Yes, sir." 

"Come here." George grabs Owen's arm capturing him in a bear hug. "I love ya. Don't forget that." You see Owen's head nod and Boomer gently pats his back before breaking away. 

'Don't let him leave like this Kaitlyn.' You think to yourself while fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt searching for the courage to move from the doorway. 

"Harkness!" 

He looks at you with an expression that's hard to read. You quickly walk towards him and his eyes narrow. Grabbing his collar, you pull him down towards you and deliver a passionate kiss. 

"Gross." You hear Owen mutter behind you and the sound of foot steps retreating. 

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. The large man grunts. 

"Ya got a funny way of showin' it love." 

You look at him with blurry vision, "You drive me mad." 

"Gah, not the water works. He says before engulfing you in his arms.

"I worry about you." Barely above a whisper.

George’s brows furl and his lips purse as he processes the words. Gently stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb he whispers, "It's the other guys you should worry about Kitty."  
______________________  
Age nine was proving to be difficult for everyone. It was getting harder to hide the truth from Owen. His questions were getting more complicated and he was observant. 

“So Dad can’t call us or write when he’s on mission?” 

“No, honey, it’s to protect us.” 

He huffed, “Even prisoners get to write and make calls.” 

Your heart plummets as you inhale to steady yourself before answering the boy. “That’s true Owen but you’re dad isn’t in prison.” ‘At least not a normal one.’ You think to yourself. 

His behavior was also beginning to get disruptive in school. There were often notes about his behavior from the teacher. When you’d ask him about it, he would dismissively shrug it off. “Oh, it wasn’t anything.” Or, “That wasn’t my fault. Ms. Barnett just blames me for everything.” 

You were beginning to feel lost with Owen’s blatant lying and wondered what was happening to your sweet boy. Owen was no longer content with being your little buddy. He wanted his father and he made sure you knew it. 

“Rough day?” You asked placing a hand on his arm. Owen quickly jerks his arm away. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Tightening your lips to suppress your disappointment, you make one more desperate attempt at getting your son to talk. “I’m a really good listener.” You say with a small hopeful smile. 

The boy quickly stands up and mutters, “I’d rather talk to dad.” 

Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse with his behavior, there was the dreaded phone call from school. Owen had been in a fight. The look of indifference on his face struck a nerve when you picked him up from school. You waited until the two of you reached the car before speaking up. 

“So what happened?” 

He casually shrugged and looked out the window, as if he thought ignoring you would make the situation disappear. 

The principal had already told you but you were determined to hear his side, “No, sir. You better try again, what happened?” 

His eyes darted to yours and a brief moment of panic sets in when he realized there was no dismissing you. 

“Tony said I was a liar and my dad wasn’t a spy. He said dad left us.” You narrow your eyes at his confession. 

“Why would that upset you? You know that’s not true.” 

“He kept going and it bothered me. He then said that I probably didn’t really know who my dad was so I punched him." 

“Kids are going to say all kinds of mean things. You can’t just punch someone every time they say something you don’t like.” 

"Dad hits stuff and you throw things." You bring a car to a halt at the light. Turning to your son, you find his blue eyes.

"We do but we shouldn't. That's not how you should treat the people you love." Your confession dripping sadness.

"Do you love dad?" A honk from the car behind pulls you from thought; you politely wave and move forward but quickly park over to the side.

"Owen, I love you and your father very much. George and I aren't always good about expressing our feelings to each other. Truthfully, we've never been good at it. Sometimes it just boils out of us in unhealthy ways. Probably like how you felt when Tony was saying those things." The boy nodded in response. "It's okay to be angry but it is not okay to intentionally harm other people. Do you understand?" 

"Yes." You wrap your arm around his head and pull it close, placing a gentle kiss in his hair. 

That evening, your emotional turmoil took over and you cried yourself to sleep. Willing for Boomer to appear and hoping to find the patience to deal with your newly disrespectful, disobedient, and disruptive son.  
_________________  
Your face drained of color when you heard the words, "There's been an accident. Mr. Harkness has been taken to Arkham hospital." Hanging up the phone, you quickly text Hailey asking her to stay with Owen. Thankfully, he was already in bed. Racing through lights you made it to the hospital in record time, barely stopping at the information desk to find his room information. The elevator seemed exceptionally slow as you waited for it to stop on the sixth floor. Once it opened, you darted towards room 656 flinging yourself on the bed and sobbing into Boomerang’s chest. On the phone, the doctor had explained that Boomer had a few deep gashes from some shrapnel, he was lucky that it missed vital organs and arteries. He also had fractured his femur which was caused by falling from the impact of the explosion. Even though you knew his injuries weren’t life threatening, seeing him resting in the bed still caused you to unravel. You couldn’t help but think, ‘What if.’

"Ya blubbering all over me gown." Looking up, you immediately capture his lips relieved to hear his voice. 

"I thought I had to worry about the other guys?" 

"He still put a dent in them." You turned to see a woman standing in the door. She had a stern face and keen eyes. "You must be Kaitlyn, I'm Amanda Waller." 

Your eyebrow rises upon hearing her name. George had mentioned her on several occasions, and he never said anything nice. 

"The Captain is a hero. He saved his fellow teammates by disabling an explosive with his boomerang before it could reach the team, unfortunately, he wasn’t far enough away to avoid injury.” She glances at George. “We’re glad he’s okay.” 

George’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling when you turned to him in disbelief. Courage wasn’t typically one of the adjectives used to describe the Captain.

"He'll likely be released in the morning. I think its best that he goes home to recuperate with his family. I’ll be checking in on his status and he’ll return to mission as soon as he’s healed.” 

You nod at the woman before she turns out of the room.  
__________________________  
Owen was certainly glad to have his father home. He would rush to see Boomer after school and loved to fill him in on his day. All the previous issues with Owen seemed to melt away with George’s presence. You feared they would return upon his departure. When you broached the topic with Boomer he simply responded, “He’s a boy Kitty. I was doin’ far worse things at his age.” Naturally, the two of you wouldn’t agree on the issue. 

George’s fracture required visits to physical therapy; he abhorred the thought of needing help from anyone. He hated your hovering but you knew he was too proud and stubborn. Therapy would leave him tired and snippy but you took it all in stride knowing he was physically and mentally drained. Usually a quick nap helped him snap out of his foul mood. One particular afternoon you stumble upon George with boomerang in hand, on the couch with Owen. The boy’s eyes are wide in adoration as he looks at the weapon. 

“Ya want to learn how to throw one?” 

Owen’s face lit up with a huge smile, “Really?” 

“I was about ya age when I learned.” Boomerang caught your gaze and quickly added, “If ya mom thinks it’s okay.” 

You were taken aback since George typically does whatever he wants. “Go finish your homework first and then you can learn to throw.” 

“Yes! I’ll go work on it now.” Owen excitedly shouts before running to his room. 

Turning to Boomer you shoot a skeptical look, “What’s your angle?”

“I don’t know what ya mean, love.” 

Curling next to him on the sofa, “Sure you don’t.” 

“Kitty, I just want to spend time with my boy.” 

You giggle, “I think I’ve heard that exact line before.” Boomer smirks before kissing your forehead. 

“Since ya caught me. I’m goin’ to need a sponge bath later and ya need to be wearing those lacy panties I like.” 

“The ones you try to steal?” 

He wiggles his brows, “Those.” 

“What am I going to do with you?”

You feel the large man shrug beneath you, “Ya ain’t figured that out yet?” 

You silently mouth, “Nope,” before he swoops down for a kiss.


End file.
